


Alcohol Laced Honesty

by RoseMeister



Category: Metro 2033 - All Media Types, Metro Last Light
Genre: F/F, Fem Artyom au, I'm back, with even more metro femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 08:30:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5620276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseMeister/pseuds/RoseMeister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Honesty is hard for Anna, it takes vodka settling in her stomach before she can open up to even the simplest of things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alcohol Laced Honesty

Anna's hair is normally so precise and taken care of, tied tight and firm into a bun, so solid that Artyom could almost imagine that she glued it in place. Now though, now strands have sneaked their way out from under her watchful gaze, and lay across her face.

It makes her look a lot more human, to Artyom at least. She struggles to remember that, sometimes times, when Anna keeps all her equipment in perfect order, herself included, and everything as clean as it's possible to keep in the tunnels.

It's quite odd really, to see her ignore that imperfection, even slight, but it might just be that here, in a back end hotel room whose main quality was that the walls weren't see through, here there wasn't really anyone to see her. Except Artyom of course, and she could do without staring even more at Anna.

Anna reached over and stuck her hand into her bag, still rested on her leg.

"I thought we could do with a drink." She said, and brought out a bottle of vodka, the label old and scribbled over, but recognisable nonetheless. And fairly full to, if Artyom judged right from the weight of the thump on the table as Anna dropped it down, and joined the bottle with two cups soon afterwards.

"Is there an occasion?" Artyom asked, grateful for the privacy that allowed her to speak normally, even if she still kept her voice low. She hasn't gotten so far by making foolish mistakes.

Anna's lips twitched in slight amusement, but she shook her head. "Not really. I just find it easier to be honest with liquor in my stomach."

She poured the vodka into the cups, filling the one nearest to her with a considerable amount more liquid.

The bottle has barely been settled back on the table before Anna had taken her first sip, and even though Artyom has never seen her drink before, she's obviously used to it, and doesn't flinch at the taste, and is soon drinking even more.

Artyom hesitantly reached out for the second cup, and drunk a small amount from it as she leant back and tried not to get too worried about Anna. She was acting a lot more careless than she normally presents herself as, and the only excuse she gave, for the sake of "honesty" doesn't really make anything clear in Artyom's mind, just made her curious and slightly anxious.

Anna slammed down her cup, already empty, and stared down at it, and didn't even make any sort of movement to show her intentions to refill her cup. Her eyebrows are furrowed into sharp angles.

"I'm sure you've noticed already, but I... I do not have many people I would consider friends. It is largely on purpose. I'm sure you know even better than I do, but, the metro is not welcoming to people like us. And I've never been a particularly warm person. 'Colder than the surface' my father used to say about me."

Anna fiddled with her cup, slid it around the table as she frowned at it. "But still, around you, I... I'm almost shocked to say that I consider you a friend. The closest I have, in fact."

Even with her eyebrows furrowed deeper than the tunnels, Artyom found herself unable to deny the simple fact she's known ever since she met Anna. The woman is beautiful, not just in appearance but in her every action, polished steel behind her every step, every word. She's strong, strong enough to let everyone who sees her know, she's a woman, she's a Ranger, two great truths that should by all rights be impossible to coexist. 

Yet she does it, more honestly than Artyom does. She was never quite brave enough to take the chance that the Rangers would keep her if they knew. No matter how good she was, there was nothing stopping them from kicking her out.

Not like Anna, whose father if nothing else was influential enough to get her in. Artyom has seen the deep settled understanding of that fact in Anna's eyes too many times before. 

Anyone else might have gotten big headed about it, thought themselves invincible, but Anna is more wary. Almost fearful, because even if she devotes her entire life to the Rangers, a single accident befalling her father could mean the end of it all.

"I understand why you do what you do." Anna said, still not meeting her eyes. "And even if sometimes I want people to know, in a sort of 'look you bastards, your two best operatives are women' way, I respect it. And I'm mainly glad to have you as a friend above all else." 

A small smile inked it's way onto her face. "It has been good to have someone who understands."

Anna shook her head and poured herself another drink, and the liquid disappeared down her throat almost as soon as it was poured.

"Thanks." Artyom said, the words soft in her mouth. "You've become quite important to me as well. I've appreciated having someone who, you know, actually knows." She drained the rest of her cup. Anna was right, it was easier to be honest with vodka settling in her stomach.

"I lost the few friends I had when I set out from Exhibition. And it's not exactly easy to properly open up and trust people when you're..." Artyom paused and gestured generally at herself before she continued. "...hiding something. Even if sometimes I almost wish you still thought I were a man."

Anna looked up at her, her face writ with confusion and curiosity, and Artyom's heart pounded it's anxious drumbeat against her ribs, and even if Anna drunk the rest of the bottle right now, Artyom can tell from the iron in her eyes that she's never going to forget her words.

Artyom grabbed the bottle herself, made herself a cup of courage, oil to sooth the rusted hinges of her jaw, fire to melt her frozen mind.

"I don't like men." She confessed. "But women. I don't know if you've noticed but that kind of deviancy it is about as welcome as a mutant in a crowded market."

Anna chuckled lightly, and tore the bottle out of Artyom's fingers, and poured herself even more.

"You think I'd prefer you as a man?" She asked, her lips curved in amusement before she drank.

"Most would." Artyom replied, her heart beating it's near-deafening music.

Anna's hand reached out across the table for her own, and her touch made Artyom's head feel like a blocked off pipe, the pressure building up and up and up until there's nothing stopping it from exploding.

"It's good that everyone is different then, yes?" Anna said, and Artyom felt like she was been wrong every time she'd thought of her as being part metal, said there's steel in her blood, because there was a smile on Anna's face, and it's gentle and wholehearted, even if Artyom is sure that at least part of the softness came from the alcohol.

Everyone is different, sure. And Artyom has never been happier about every deviance of her own until now, with alcohol warm in her veins, and Anna's hand even warmer in her own.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so gay 4 Anna honestly she was the best part of metro last light


End file.
